


And When I Fall...

by Kaoz



Category: Supernatural, The Originals (TV), Vampire Diaries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-29 02:38:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaoz/pseuds/Kaoz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunters in Mystic Falls...well, that's never a good sign.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_‘Nice and quiet…’_

She figures a little stop in a small town… then again, it’s infested.

_‘Vampires… oh my…’_

The song plays in her head, same melody, over and over, and over and over. Too bad demons aren't a reliable source of information and it’s the lead it gave her she's chasing anyway.

“One more.” The empty glass scrapes on the bar-top, melting ice cubes clinking and the sound barely registers considering the patrons are louder than that. It’s a busy place, this _Mystic Grill_ and the food…

_‘I could go for another steak.’_

Ice blue eyes peer at her, his hand hovering over a glass- she's going with whiskey purely on the amber color but then there's something about him-

“Buy you another?”

It’s not even a question, no matter how it’s phrased but she nods anyway and downs the drink placed before her. It’s a public place, drunk or not, she’ll be safe enough.

He smiles, lips turning up in a lazy smirk she can't help but compare to _his_.

_‘Screw him!’_

And then she bites the inside of her cheek, eyes rolling because she certainly did and shamelessly too.

 _‘Dean Winchester.’_ There's a sigh somewhere deep down she's locking away. It’s not like he promised forever but … well, a girl could hope and damn it, she certainly fooled herself. She forgot to keep a distance with him; she forgot there was never any hope of something ‘more’ with Dean.  The dumbass can't let himself have a ‘happily ever after’.

“Do you make a habit of buying drinks for women you don’t know?” her dark eyes run over his face; pale skin, gorgeous clear blue eyes almost gray, classic handsome features.

“I was planning on getting to know you better.” His smile is slow to grace his lips and her eyes fall to his mouth. “I'm Damon.”

“Rheygne.” She wants to take it back, get a do over because that breathless whisper certainly isn't making the right impression.

“What brings you to Mystic Falls?” Damon slides another drink towards her. His eyes don’t leave her face; dark lashes framing wide cat shaped eyes a dark shade of amber flecked with copper. She has fine features, high cheekbones, her skin is a healthy sun kissed gold. His eyes rest on her full lips tinged a rosy-just-kissed shade …

“Oh…just, passing through.”  She offers a slow smile of her own, taps the drink but never takes it and slips off the stool. “Now, I'm on my way.” She can feel his eyes on her as she leaves. _‘Temptation on legs. OMG.’_ She wonders if gorgeous men are put on this earth just to tease her because it’s not fair.

Outside its cold. Not exactly winter though her breath puffs out in little white clouds. She's got her keys in hand, the longest one secured between her fingers. It’s not like she could walk around with her knife in hand. The civilians tend to get over excited about things like that.

Damon is waiting. He watches her approach the car; gunmetal grey and a little older than he would have pegged for her taste. He studies her approach, a steady stride, purposeful. She's graceful, slim but with curves he’d love to explore.

She spots him leaning against her ride.

Rheygne pauses before crossing the street. She doesn’t take her eyes from the gorgeous stranger though she wonders how the hell he made it out to her car before she did.

_‘How does he know it’s mine?’_

“Hello.” He smiles with a secret as his eyes skim over her again.

“Goodnight.” Rheygne sets a firm tone to her words hoping it’s enough to send him off. She doesn’t want to mess up such a gorgeous face. He moves aside for her.

“1941 Hollywood.” He sounds amused and there's a definite glint of mischief in his eyes when she turns to face him. There's something unsettling about him, the way he's standing there-deceptively casual. “It’s not what I pictured you driving.”

“Why is that?” Rheygne can't quite put her finger on what this is but it’s definitely something.

“It lacks … muscle.”

There's a definite smirk playing about his mouth that draws her eyes to his lips.

“Appearances can be deceiving.” Rheygne murmurs. “Graham’s a hot-rod.” She meets his eyes and smiles. “There’s plenty of muscle under the hood.” She opens the door behind herself using the opportunity to step into his body before slowly stepping back. “I'm more of a speed freak anyway.”

Damon follows her. He's enjoying the game and for once isn't thinking of killing first. “I enjoy fast.”

“I'm sure you do.” Rheygne murmurs, there's a slight tremor in her voice. A sense of excitement she doesn’t understand. It’s like she's playing with a dangerous animal-

Damon leans down to her eye level, his hand lightly gracing her cheek. He's got a second of hesitation; to compel her or not?

_‘I wonder…’_

He chooses to use charm instead. As out of practice and impatient as he is … well, it’s never been difficult for him to be charming.

Rheygne doesn’t dare breathe. His lips press against hers, cool and new and –

 _‘Holy cow, I think I feel electric.’_ She almost laughs at the idiotic thought but the light touch of his tongue against her lips takes the silly thoughts out of her mind.

.*.

Damon stretches out lazily, there's a satisfied smile on his lips. He's pleased. Charm worked just fine and his prize lies beside him. He rolls on his side to study her. The long ebony locks cover most of her back and he smoothes them out of the way with a light touch. He lets his fingers trail down her back, following the pattern inked into her soft skin. She's certainly not what Damon was expecting and there's a story behind her ink.

Rheygne stirs, a soft sigh the first sign of her waking.

Damon easily flips her on her back and tucks her into his side. Her eyes flutter open and the sunlight streaming through the curtained window sparks the dark amber and copper with fire. She smiles, her hands splaying flat on his bare chest.

“Morning.” Her voice is a husky whisper he cuts off. A spark of desire ignites.

It’s rather easy. _Too_ easy but Damon is going to enjoy himself.

There's no mistaking the door opening down stairs or the voice that floats up calling his name.

 _‘Damn it.’_ He sighs, annoyance marring the moment and Rheygne frowns at him.

“I’ll be right back.” Damon presses a fast kiss to her lips, taking a nip before he jumps out of his bed and strides towards the door without a stitch of clothes.

Rheygne is left wondering what happened. She sits up; the sheet tucked around her and her eyes wander the bed room. It’s not what she expected- not the house, not the hot guy and certainly not last night.

 _‘I'm going to hell and fast. What was I thinking?’_ but her guilt over spending the night with a man she knows nothing about is quickly brushed off as her mind goes back over the night.

“Ouch.” Rheygne reaches up and runs her fingers over the back part of her shoulder. She feels sore in all the right places and then some. “What…” she frowns rubbing at her fingers and reaches to her back once again. The dark flakes on her fingertips –

The door closes.

Rheygne jerks in surprise, her eyes locked with his.

There's an undercurrent in the room … danger … but this time she feels it _towards_ herself directed from the gorgeous man – _‘Is he…?’_

Damon frowns, not exactly upset but there's a definite hint of annoyance. He strides towards his bed and the girl in it, who turns out to be smarter than he’d given her credit for.

Rheygne is quick to scramble out of the bed. Naked or not she's not sitting still for him- “Ahh!”

Damon ignores her yelp. He grabs her around the waist and lightly tosses her back in the bed where he covers her with his body.

Rheygne shoves her fist in his face, the blow connecting with his jaw perfectly. “Ow… _fuck_!” she exclaims cradling her throbbing fist to her chest.

Damon arches a dark eyebrow, flexing his jaw. “Now, that wasn’t nice.” He flicks the dark strands in her face out of her eyes before leaning in.

“What the hell –mmph!” Rheygne shoves against his chest but he's like a mountain and that sense of danger is overwhelming. She bites his lip, the copper tang of blood on her tongue when he pulls back.

“You're not afraid.” Damon cups her face, his eyes locked with hers. “Are you?”

“I'm…not afraid.” Rheygne repeats and she's not. Her fear just faded and she doesn’t feel like fighting him.

“I didn’t want to do that.” Damon sighs disappointed. His fingers trail along her cheek to her throat. His ice blue eyes following the same path. “Don’t move.” She lies still for him. Doesn’t move at all even when his mouth settles on her neck and his teeth finally break through her skin...

.*.

Rheygne wakes up to a dark cloudy sky. She rolls over and utters a groan, she hurts all over. She dreads getting up and grabs the pillow to stuff over her head and hide for a couple minutes more. She struggles to find sleep and frustrated with the futile efforts throws the pillow aside.

“I hate mornings!” she manages to sit up. The frown on her face is slightly confused. “When did I …?” she turns and doesn’t remember checking into the hotel room. Searching for her cell phone she finds it on the floor slightly under the bed. There are a bunch of text messages from Sam, a couple of voicemails she's not looking forward to listening to and missed calls from just about everyone; the Winchesters, Bobby and … her Grandfather. “Shit.”

The phone rings twice before the line picks up. _“Where the hell have you been?”_

“Hi, Pop. How are you?” Rheygne winces, eyes closing and fingers crossed.

 _“Don’t you ‘how are you’ me, girl.”_ Pop grouches _. “I want your ass back on the road and on your way home, Rheygne.”_

“Sorry, Pop.” Rheygne sighs. “Can't do that. I've got a lead and I'm following it.”

_“Rheygne-.”_

“Please don’t make me choose, Pop.” Rheygne gets silence for a few seconds and she's hoping the sweet tone of her voice helps to sway him. She's not looking forward to hanging up on her grandfather let alone disobeying him.

_“Which one was it?”_

_‘Damn.’_

“What do you mean?” Rheygne scowls at the mirror. She's hoping they didn’t tell him _everything_ but having Sam walk in on … _‘I'm gonna kill him. That sob! They told Pop’s!’_

 _“Dean called.”_ Pop snaps and he's mad. _“You still wanna pretend you don’t know what I'm asking?”_

 _‘Krap, krap, krap!!’_ her cheeks fill with rosy color and she's so not looking forward to having that conversation with her grandfather yet again. Once was embarrassing enough. But the damn ‘birds and bees’ conversation …

“Dean.” She sighs into the phone. It’s not like her grandfather hadn’t warned her against getting ‘involved’ with Hunters. “Before you say ‘I told you’ I already know. Forget about the lecture, Pop. I've moved on,” she almost chokes on the lie but hell, why admit she fooled herself. “And that lead is one closer to-.”

_“No.”_

“Huh?”

_“I said, No. Get your ass home, Rheygne.”_

“NO.” Rheygne jumps out of bed and paces to the mirror. “I'm not going home before I find out what the hell happened to my brother. This is my only lead, grandpa.”

_“You want to end up like him? Is that what you’re telling me? Get your ass home right now, Rheygne!”_

“Sorry, Pop.” Rheygne cuts the line. She blinks tears from her eyes and pops the case open. She takes out the battery and tosses the pieces on the bed.

The old man had never been quiet about his disappointment with Theo. They didn’t speak for years and Rheygne had been stuck in the middle. They were all that was left of her family and Pops had effectively cut Theo out of hers.

He was happy being regular joe-schmoe. He never wanted to be a Hunter so taking up the life was out of left field.

Theo never contacted them. He stayed as far from Rheygne and his grandfather as he could. The best that Rheygne can manage for now is the lead she got with help from the Winchesters.

And the little information she retrieved from Theo’s car and hotel room. Drawings of things she could barely make sense of.


	2. Answer Me This

Two days of sitting and watching and waiting and more waiting, gah! But there's a pattern for sure and now Rheygne knows a little more about her target than she did with Google. The inside of Graham, the gunmetal gray, ’41 Hollywood hot-rod, is cozy and clean. Except for little box on the floor of the passenger seat that contains all of Rheygne’s snack wrappers and take out containers. She pulls out the plastic bag lining it and takes it with her dumping it into the trash can in the street. Peeking through the window she spots her target placing his order.

_‘Here goes…’_

The _Mystic Grill_ seems to be the one place the whole town likes to hang out in. Alaric takes the table almost in the center of the space; people coming and going don’t draw his attention. He sips from his water waiting for his food ignoring as the door opens for the hundredth time since he’s arrived.

The chair across from him scrapes on the wooden floors and a slim brunette sits offering a perfunctory smile as she does. They study each other for a long silent moment. Alaric slightly confused and curious, he takes a cursory glance around the restaurant, brow furrowed when his gaze falls on her once again. “…Hello...?”

Rheygne wonders what it is…maybe nothing at all but she can sense something … _different_ , about this Hunter. “I need help.” She’d roll her eyes but … blurting things out when she felt anxious or uncomfortable is one of the things she’s been told to work on.

Alaric watches the ‘girl’ across from him bite her lip, her eyes following his every move. “…okay…?”

“Answers, actually.” She sticks her hand out across the table over the water glass. “Rheygne Henrié.”

Alaric is wary, not sure he gets what’s going on. He reaches across and takes her hand in his, her grip is firm. “Do we know each other?” her voice doesn’t have the accent she used on her name; French. _‘Definitely.’_

“You'd think.” Rheygne just rolls her eyes, a tiny shake of her head the only other sign of slight annoyance. “The life we chose … pretty hard not to run into another Hunter.” She watches the shift in his expression; confusion gives way to alarm then wariness as he sits back in his chair studying her.

Alaric casts his gaze around the _Mystic Grill_ wondering who he knows. By the bar he spots Matt working the afternoon shift and Jeremy carting a gray plastic bin to the tables and by the open door entering on the gust of cold air is Caroline.

“Please, don’t think me stupid and feign ignorance.” Rheygne warns with a hint of annoyance coloring her tone. “Pretty face.” she points a finger at her face and it is that; big dark eyes that spark with fire under the lighting of his table. She bats her lashes in a very girly way offering a cute smile. “Brain has more than air. So…” her expression falls into seriousness so fast Alaric blinks at the sudden change. Her gaze wanders around the place and spots the blond girl at the bar. Rheygne offers a slight smile at the intense gaze directed towards them. “Friend of yours?” she lets the smirk play about her full lips turning to Alaric.

“Student.” Alaric replies shortly. “Who are you?” his arms cross over his chest and he straightens up in his chair.

“Let’s move onto how you can help me.” Rheygne brushes off his question without care. She wants answers and the fact she's going on a lead from a demon is so … _‘I must be crazy to believe it was telling the truth.’_ But she was at a dead end with the clues Theo left behind. And their grandfather wasn’t going to get involved; he made that extremely clear the day Theo walked out on them. “And I, you.” Rheygne rests her arms on the table leaning towards him as her voice drops slightly. Alaric knows its not going to affect Caroline’s eavesdropping.

“Help me…what?” Alaric has the distinct feeling he already knows what kind of ‘help’ she's offering him. It’s unsettling because that _is_ what he does-or should be doing. It’s why he came to Mystic Falls in the first place- one of the reasons.

“With your infestation problem. Here. In Mystic Falls.” Rheygne doesn’t get why he's being so reticent. Hell! The Winchesters hadn’t been so hard to crack once she got past Dean and came clean about why she was on her own and what she was doing. Allowing her to Hunt with _alone_ with _him_? Yeah, that had been a totally different nut to crack with John but then he was usually off on his own Hunt.

“I'm … managing fine.”

Rheygne's eyes narrow on him. She doesn’t understand why he's slightly flippin’ out at the offer. He's all twitchy in his seat, eyes constantly darting towards the bar and his hands are fisted she can see the whites of his knuckles. “… right … I’ll try not to burst your bubble.” She sits up, her expression forcibly relaxed as she looks him over once more. “Denial doesn’t look half bad on you.”

“You mustn’t need my help…” Alaric eyes her, lips pressed into disapproval. He's curious for sure. This ‘girl’ comes out of nowhere asking for answers-which she hasn’t even asked him the questions to- offering her services as a fellow Hunter- _‘How_ old _is she?’_ His frown elicits some kind of apology.

“My bad.” Rheygne chokes down the rest of her sarcastic quips and looks into his eyes. “I just …” she's’ all kinds of conflicted. Sad because Theo is dead. Angry _because_ he's dead and she doesn’t know _why_ and because the idiot never asked for help when he’d clearly needed it. Worried she’ll never find out what happened-the reason for any of it. Scared she won’t like the answers she's looking for. Anxious because she's following a lead they tortured out of a demon and those are all a bunch of liars anyway.

Rheygne drags in a fortifying breath, pulls out her cell phone and slides it across the table. Alaric spares it a glance before taking it in hand. His brow furrows, thinking maybe he's seen the sketch before but he's not sure and skips through the images on her cell.

“My brother… he drew this. I don’t know why or where it’s from but I'm sure this is why he's dead.” Rheygne clears her throat, her eyes filling with hope as she watches Alaric glance up from the image in his hand. “You knew Daniel Elkins. The kind of Hunt he preferred… my brother, Theo, he -.”

“Here you are.” Matt gives a perfunctory smile and sets the plate in front of Alaric. “Can I get you anything?” his smile is polite as he looks at her. Curiosity and annoyance with Caroline for hissing at him the girl with Alaric is trouble. He really doesn’t need more trouble in his life when his friends bring him plenty of it.

Rheygne stamps down annoyance for the interruption and forces a pleasant smile on her face. “Nope. I'm good. Thanks. Bye.” She practically runs him off, turning in her seat slightly as he starts to move off and catches the little blond at the bar _still_ watching.

Matt’s brow furrows. He isn't sure how to take the dismissal but he walks away, a faltering smile on his face that fades once his back turns on the table.

“How is Daniel?” Alaric draws her attention and takes up his fork. He spears a carrot from his plate, eyes intent on her. Rheygne's head tilts slightly, an exasperated exhale the only sign of annoyance.

“Dead. Unless you didn’t know…?”Rheygne eyes him. Being tested is a given especially when they take one look at her. All they see is the ‘tiny girl’, big amber eyes with a pout dressed like a little rebel. No one ever bothers to look past the surface and see the experienced Hunter Reîgner raised from the age of six when his son was taken from the world.

 _‘Now it’s just the two of us. Grandpa and me, we’re all that’s left of two Hunter families…’_ sadness fills her heart at the loss. Stories she had grown up hearing from her Mother, about the loup-garou wars in France… Well, there were no more stories to tell.

“You've seen this.” Rheygne is positive as she grabs her phone back from the table. She doesn’t take her eyes from him and the fact he's still to take a bite from his food. She shakes her head at him when Alaric sets his fork down and begins a protest. “Not an airhead, man.” She frowns staring at him. “What do you know?”

Alaric sits back in his chair. His food left untouched and over her shoulder he can see Caroline intently watching them.

Listening.

Curiosity. It gets you every time and Alaric is definitely intrigued by the unasked questions this ‘girl’ wants him to answer. And they have a ‘friend’ in common.

“Not here.”

.*.

The house is dark- not exactly ‘house’ but it’s where he lives or rather where Alaric keeps his belongings. Rheygne doesn’t see the place getting much use and the dark smudge on her finger from where she ran it across the surface of the mantel is proof. She wipes her hands and moves across the sparse living room to the couch though she doesn’t sit, and waits for Alaric to come back from his kitchen.

“Nice.” She scans the room; large, looking for emergency exits and handy weapons- just in case; it never hurts to be prepared.

“It’s…” Alaric trails off with a slight shrug. He motions to the couch and moves around to take a seat where he sets down both glasses. “Here.” The ledger styled book he takes from the drawer in the coffee table is thin- not much information or rather, the answers Rheygne is looking to find.

“So…. How’d you get this?” Rheygne sneaks a glance at him through her lashes and the discomfort crossing his features is quickly wiped away.

“My… I knew someone who found this sort of thing interesting.” Though at the time Alaric had not wanted to see it for the obsession it really was.

That ‘my’ registers but for now Rheygne is willing to let it go. She opens the book, scanning through the first couple of pages before silence and the steady gaze she should ignore draw hers from the neat script on the weathered pages.

“Are you going to start the lecture?”

Alaric’s brow furrows but she doesn’t seem at all upset over the idea. “I'm not sure I know what you mean.”

“Oh, it’s like that.” Rheygne nods, the book is set on her lap and she crosses her hands over it, sitting back in the couch while leveling a stern gaze in his direction. “You're not the last one who’s going to point out- like I don’t know this already- the fact I'm a ‘girl’.” And she raises her hands to add air quotes, eyes rolling so Alaric’s lips twitch with mild amusement. “That Hunting isn’t for me because I’ll get hurt or, oooh.” She shudders mockingly. “Die. Cus this life, that’s how you go out. Bloody and gory and painfully. Did I miss anything else?”

She sits there, her gaze never wavering and Alaric shakes his head. “You're a child.” He mutters under his breath, still loud enough she hears him. He's just thinking of the lives already changed- Elena, Jeremy, Tyler, _Caroline_ … so young and here there's another one ready to jump into the fire.

“I’ve been living this life longer than you.” Rheygne retorts, the heat behind her words held in check. “Look, you've got vampires running around town picking off civilians. You don’t want help taking care of this, fine. You think I'm just a girl out for an adventure, fine. I really don’t care what you think of me. You don’t know me so that’s fair. But I am going to stick around a few days, do some Hunting of my own.” She gets to her feet, the book in her hand. “I’ll get this back to you once I make a copy.” She eyes him. “Unless you want it back right this second?”

Alaric wonders- take it back, deny her access to his dead wife’s research… send her angry out of his apartment to take it out on the Salvatore brothers, Caroline, Tyler…

“Keep it.” Alaric gets to his feet, her surprise quickly hidden and he leads her to the door. “Just… be careful.” He warns though he’ll make sure to let the others know there's a Hunter in Mystic Falls. A very young one at that…

“Ok.” Rheygne pauses mid-step before the partially open door and walking into the hall and out of the ‘fake’ apartment. There's something she's not getting and that feeling annoys her to no end every single time. Usually, in the end, it really ends up hurting. “Thank you.”

“Your brother…” Alaric pauses with the door partially open. “He… how did he know Daniel?”

“Our grandfather.” Another long story with tons of family history and adventure.“They exchanged information- he ran into a particularly rare sort of vampire. Hybrid.” She shrugs her shoulder, brow furrowing. “I’ve never seen one, nor heard of one before that or since. My grandfather and Mr. Elkins took it down.”

“Hybrids…” Alaric’s thoughts spin in his head. Had Klaus managed to make hybrids before? And why pretend he hadn’t…? “And your brother?”

“I don’t know.” Rheygne shifts her weight; the tight press of her lips says more about what she feels than her words. “He didn’t want this life. As far as I knew, Theo was regular Joe and happy.” There never was any real explanation as to _why_ he’d take up the family legacy and never mention it to Pops or herself. There were a lot of questions as to why Theo had stayed away from them once he became a Hunter. And why go to Daniel Elkins in the first place? Why focus on vampires when there were other things to Hunt? A family legacy to follow…

“What kind of hybrid?” Alaric tries not to sound too interested.

Rheygne smirks, she doesn’t hide the fact it’s a bit farfetched but she knows better than to mock anything her grandfather says. He's usually right. “Vampire and werewolf.” She smiles, head tilted slightly as she looks at him. “My Mother’s family has a long history of Hunting. Overseas, of course.” She points out. “La famille Henrié est bien connu des loups-garous en Europe.”

And it was that war Pops says sent a branch of the family to the New World when there was a chance.

“I think there's some still left over there.” She shrugs. “But we don’t really do the family dinners or holidays.” She grabs the sharpie ever handy in her back pocket and snags his hand. “You change your mind about Hunting, feel free to call.” She smiles perfunctorily and drops his hand. “Or for questions. You seem the type.” She opens the door wider and steps into the hall leaving Alaric to stand in the entrance.

_‘The Henrié family is well known to the werewolves in Europe...’_

Alaric wonders if either of the Slavatore’s have heard of them…?

Has Klaus?


	3. Sweep Me Under

Damon walks in as usual; feigning disinterest in the group assembled in the living room, ennui in pretty much everything as though he's seen it all during his ‘long’ years as a vampire. It’s _what_ they're saying that pulls him back into their midst. Instead of ignoring them all…

“I knew she was trouble.” Caroline pulls out her cell phone and it only takes a second before all their phones are buzzing with an incoming text. “That’s her.”

“This is the Hunter?” Stefan flicks his eyes to where Damon carelessly stands leaning in the frame, neither in or out of the room. The picture is only a profile view but the brunette is unmistakably the same one Damon ‘entertained’ a few days ago.

“What?” Damon shrugs. Their anger doesn’t affect him either way, at least not as much as any of them would care to. “So I knew what she was.” Because he's not stupid and the things the girl picked up on… not to mentions the scent of gunpowder, oil and wolfs bane he caught on her clothes and hair…“It’s not like she remembers anything- shame to.” He smiles at the scowling faces and can't help himself. “I think I'm in the mood to look her up again.” And its not just because of the fuss they're all going to make when he does bring her around once again.

“Damon.” Stefan warns in that censorious tone of his that just grates.

“Maybe I’ll even keep her around a little longer.” Damon threatens with that cold smile of his that still doesn’t quite make a sneer though it’s what he intends. And its not an idle threat either, which surprises Damon just a bit. He can't admit to liking this Hunter girl-

Stefan sighs with resignation. He knows it’s only Damon being Damon but he could wish his brother didn’t always have to be so difficult.

“You could have told us there was a Hunter in Mystic Falls, Damon!” Caroline slaps her hands on her thighs in exasperation.

“I was busy.” Damon repliessmiling the insinuation as to _how_ he was busy. He waves to the group intending to walk out the front door again and follow through on that non-threat he's just voiced-

“Damon,” Alaric calls to the retreating vampire. “Leave her alone.” He knows immediately that’s not what he should’ve said. “If you…harm her…”

“What?” Damon walks into the living room, moving around the couch in his way- that predatory glint... He stops in front of Alaric, pale blue eyes unflinching as he stares at the mortal. “Are you going to kill me?” his voice is soft and smooth, without fear though he knows Alaric can be dangerous. But they’ve become friends of a sort…

Alaric sighs, eyes closing briefly, aware that everyone in the room can see his annoyance. “She's not alone, Damon.”

“Huh,” Damon steps back. That self-satisfied smile once again on his face. “She was when I brought her home.”

“If she goes missing other Hunters will come to look for her.” Alaric’s warning doesn’t dampen Damon's desire to go looking but it does raise concern with Stefan and Caroline. “Rheygne isn't … her family, they’ve only Hunted werewolves.”

“Tyler.” Caroline gasps in alarm.

“She's not here for Tyler.” Alaric assures. “She's not Hunting werewolves.”

“Then what?” Stefan questions. “Vampires? Why is she here?”

“She said you had answers.” Caroline adds before Alaric can reply to all the questions.

“She's looking for the reason her brother is dead.” Alaric replies quietly. He doesn’t know how much the research will help but its going to buy them time. To do what, he has no idea but Alaric hopes it’s to figure out a way to get Rheygne out of Mystic Falls unharmed. Before Klaus finds out there's another Hunter in town.

.*.

The silver hot-rod purrs to a stop alongside the curb. The brunette getting out drapes a leather satchel over her shoulder. All the notes and papers from the empty hotel room… the clues Theo left behind… the ledger from Alaric’s ‘friend’…  
Rheygne steps onto the path, her eyes following the flow of students on campus. A part of her wonders what that would be like. Go to college; spend her days and nights studying, in class listening to lectures, running around a pre-determined amount of space- her mini domain… _‘Confinement inside four walls no matter where I am on this campus.’_ A slight shudder goes through her picturing it. There’s never really been a place she couldn’t go or leave. There's a whole world out there… With things that need killing and few people able to do that.

Normal in the sense that others consider it is not what Rheygne is. Her world is sweat, pain and death. It’s in her blood. … and maybe that’s why Theo became a Hunter after all.

It’s still a nice daydream, something to imagine could happen – in some alternate reality like a ScyFy movie. Rheygne utters a dry chuckle heading up the steps and inside the old building. It brings her memories of Theo, when they'd stay up watching the bad monster movies with usually bad acting on that channel. It was her favorite time with him.

The door has a shiny plaque next to it- removable, of course.

_Professor A.Shane_

Rheygne knocks though she knows he's inside and waits trying for patience but she's anxious to find out what it is the Professor knows.

 _“Come in.”_ his voice is muffled but she opens the door and walks in ignoring the slight feeling of apprehension. There's nothing to fear from a teacher unless its detention.

He looks up from the stack of papers on his desk and offers a perfunctory smile. “You're not a student of mine.”

“How can you tell?” Rheygne moves around to sit in the chair in front of his desk. She casts a quick glance around taking note of various objects- most of them original artifacts if she's going by look alone.

“I know my students.” Shane assures and sits back in his chair, eyeing the girl. “You're not in any of my classes.”

“How do you know I'm not just hiding in the back somewhere?” she studies him. “I could be sitting in the darkest corner of the room not making a sound.”

“Are you?” Shane grins, almost uttering the laugh threatening to spill. He's finding this an amusing distraction from the papers on his desk that still need grading.

“No.” she answers.

“How can I help you, then?” he watches her reach into the leather satchel at her side and pull out a tablet.

“I’d like to show you something.” She swipes across the screen a few times before sitting forward and placing it in front of him.

“You know,” he ignores the tablet still watching her. “You haven’t introduced yourself.”

“Funny,” Rheygne leans on the desk, her arms crossed. “You haven’t either.”

“My name is on the door.” Shane points out. He smiles and drops his gaze to the tablet.

Rheygne doesn’t miss the way his mouth tightens, trying not to lose the smile as he looks at the image.

“Interesting.” Shane glances up, taking the tablet in both hands and swiping to the next image. “Where did you get these?”

“What are they?” she counters instead. The fact he's asking her ‘where’ instead of ‘why’ only makes her cautious and she's not about to tell him she spent some of her time scanning all the papers Theo left behind.

“Is there any reason you're hesitant to answer my question?” Shane tries again though he's still looking through the images in her tablet. What he really needs to know is how this girl and the questions she's going to ask affect his plans.

“I don’t know.” Rheygne sits up, eyeing him. “Is there a reason you keep answering _my_ questions with your own?”

Shane stops looking through the tablet and forces himself to relax and smile. “I can only answer your questions if I know what it is I'm looking at and where you managed to get these from.” He slightly raises the tablet and waits.

“See, I already know that you do.” She nods at the tablet still in his hands. “Asking me about them isn't why I'm here. I want to know what they are. And I can tell that you do know.”

Shane sets the tablet down and thinks; what can he tell her without giving her anything? And he knows the girl is trouble he can’t afford- not this soon.

“It’s a brotherhood.” He finally reveals, carefully watching her reaction. “The Brotherhood of Five, to be precise.”

“Sounds old.” Rheygne notes, eyes narrowed and wary. “What else?”

Shane gives a light shrug. “They are said to have been formed by a witch in the 10th century. They were meant to kill vampires.”

“So…like Buffy, then.” She gives a nod and by the twist of her lips gives away her displeasure at the news. His amused chuckle only makes her scowl.

“Why are you so interested in what these are?” Shane sets the tablet on his desk within easy reach of her.

“Why five?” Rheygne counters. “And who was the witch or has that been lost through the ages too?”

“What’s your interest-?”

“Purely school related.” Rheygne cut in. “I'm working on a paper but all this _Buffy The Vampire Slayer_ krap is making it difficult to get a passing grade.” She smiles tightly, pushing down her frustration. “I thought you could help me…maybe you know something else that doesn’t come off like a Hollywood movie?”

Shane can appreciate the tall tale, he's done pretty well for himself in that regard though its been necessity if he wants to get them back. “This is the Hunters Mark.” He pushes the tablet towards her and leans across the desk. “It was a tattoo that covered the right arm and spread across the torso- a map.” He shrugs and offers a coy smile.

“To what?” Rheygne frowns at the screen but its not your regular map- not one she's used to reading.

“Well,” Shane stands up drawing her eyes away from the image on his desk. “Treasure?” he shrugs looking amused.

“Yeah,” Rheygne flops back in the chair rolling her eyes and looking very much like one of the many college kids on campus. “That helps so much, Professor.” She sighs eyeing him. She knows there's more information here but she's not going about getting it the right way. “Maybe some facts can pull this out of fairy land. You could just point me in the right direction; I’ll do all the leg work. I mean, its my paper…” she adds.

Shane looks around his office and waves his hand at all the shelves. Rheygne sits up, her eyes taking in the books in the shelves and on the side tables with an inward groan.

“You're welcome to look in my library.” Shane smiles because if she really wants the information he can so easily give her this is where she’ll find it. And having her close at hand will help to avoid unpleasant surprises. As long as Shane can keep her in the dark.

 _‘Awesome.’_ Rheygne stifles the frown wanting to spoil the ‘wide-eyed excited’ expressions she's trying to hold on to. “So… anytime?”


	4. I Know What You Are

 

_Rheygne is watching John argue with her grandfather about joining his Hunt. It’s not the first time a Hunter claimed to ‘be there first’. She’d correct the Winchesters by saying it’s really theirs and John would be lucky that Pops is allowing them to tag along. The Loups are what the Henrié’s have Hunted since forever as far as she knows. It’s her legacy, it’s in her DNA…_

_It’s the blond smart ass leaning on the shiny hood of the black beast that draws her attention and the superior expression on his face that ticks her off._

_“Hey,” she eyes him- admiring the play of muscles under the faded t-shirt and the nice fit of his ratty jeans. He’s way pretty, but pretty doesn’t always mean smart._

_Or nice…_

_“Dean.” He says with his smirk. He’s not pretending to ignore the looks she’s been giving him, hell; he’s been looking too, though he’s been doing it on the sly. No sense in adding to the argument taking place between the ‘adults’. And there's the annoyance of her being a minor, or of him being considered an adult now. Legally._

_“Don’t care.” Rheygne throws back with a smile of her own. She leans her hip on the hood of the Impala, which draws his eyes lower. She still finds it surprising and fun all at the same time- this being a girl thing definitely has its perks. “You should take your Dad and run along.” Her fingers mimic the motion of walking through the air that he ignores._

_Dean snorts. “Really?” he’ll go with amused, no need to get riled up if there’s nothing in reach to kill. He likes her spunk and maybe she's too sassy but it’s not like he's going to be around long enough for it to annoy him. “Your old man looks ready to fall apart.” He cocks his head to where her grandfather is standing his ground. “Werewolves will be gnawing on his bones.” Dean leans into her space, his green eyes running over the skintight jeans and her tank top. He doesn’t hide that he likes what he sees and when his eyes meet hers there's a challenge in her gaze. “Shame to see your pretty face get clawed.” He murmurs. There's sparks of copper and gold in the dark depths, long lashes that flutter as she blinks up at him._

_Rheygne laughs. Her eyes glint with humor, the amber and copper sparking under the sunny day and maybe a little bit of annoyance because yet again, no one seems to take her seriously as a Hunter. “G_ _arçons ânesse muette,_ _pensant toujours avec votre pantalon._ _”_

_“Huh?” Dean’s smirk falters slightly, his brow furrowing and he doesn’t like being purposely spoken to in a language he doesn’t understand._

_Rheygne turns away from him, no need to translate for him because that’s only going to start another argument and one seems plenty. But he's not the first to think with his pants and her experience over the last three years since she's ‘grown into her looks’ – there's an eye roll she suppresses- only makes it more obvious that’s not something that will change._

_“Fine.” John gives in, eyeing the old man and turning his dark eyes on Rheygne._

_Reîgner huffs, like John ever had a chance of getting rid of them. The annoying part is John thinking he's ‘allowing’ the Henrié's to tag along on_ his _hunt._

_“Keep an eye on her.” He orders his son and stomps towards his truck for the weapons he'll need._

_She's not particularly happy about being foisted off like she can't handle herself. Reîgner sees the eye roll, ignores it in favor of glaring at Dean who doesn’t look pleased to be set as Rheygne’s baby sitter. That doesn’t mean the boy is going to keep his hands to himself without some sort of ‘help’. Of course, Rheygne can handle roving hands- they'd be easier than a monsters claws._

_“_ _Nous devons les abandonner dès que possible._ _”_ _Rheygne ignores Dean as her grandfather starts towards their own truck.  Ditching the Winchesters would be easy once the Hunt began for real. Reîgner can track anything but he's even better at concealing his own tracks. A skill he's been teaching Rheygne since she was old enough to trail him around the house._

_“Ainsi, le loup peut avoir?”_ _Reîgner moves around the truck bed and grabs the packs in easy reach. As much trouble as the Winchesters are going to be, he still doesn’t want them eaten by werewolves._

_Rheygne shrugs, grabs the edge of the truck bed and hops into the back. She pulls the case from under the toolbox and pops the locks open. The lid lifts easily and the gleam of metal is camouflaged by the black paint coating the compound bow. Reîgner tosses her the harness she slips into with ease. The leather straps have long since molded to her body and the quiver has a flap that keeps her arrows from going where they aren't supposed to. Unless she wants them to._

_“What-?” Dean frowns, his hand resting on the now closed trunk of the Impala. “Peter Pan, the girl version?” he chuckles shaking his head but he stops that forward step as the whistle of an arrow thunks into the soft ground where his foot was supposed to go._

_“What the hell!” John bellows while Dean glares up at the girl standing in the back of the truck like his Father doesn’t have a gun trained on her._

_“It landed a bit short.” Rheygne notes, the tiny shrug of her shoulder coupled with the twitch of her lips really annoys Dean. “I’m more of a Yanuki Jun. Nidaime ler_ _ō_ _F_ _ō_ _!” she gives a saucy salute and winks._

_“She's not threatening your boy.” Reîgner gruffly points out to John. He waves his granddaughter down, never taking his eyes from the Hunter he's heard is a stubborn son of a bitch. “Rheygne has better aim.” And this time he levels a stern eye on her when she lands beside him._

_“I know, Pops.” But she's not at all sorry for showing off either and he can tell. “But Sailor Mars made a vow I'm pretty sure I’ll break one day.”_

_Off to the side she can hear Dean’s annoyed : “Cartoons?” which she ignores because who doesn’t enjoy some Anime?_

The shrill whistle by her head finally gets her to open her eyes. She's scowling in the dark of her hotel room because of the memory she dreamed of and grabs her cell phone.

“Merde!” she squints at the too bright screen and taps the icon that silences the alarm then flops back into the uncomfortable mattress. It’s too damn hard for her taste and the fact it’s just like every other damn bed she's slept in since she took to the trail of her brother, brings frustrated tears to burn at her eyes.

“Fucking stupid dream.” Rheygne mutters. But she's not going to lay there and cry for someone that didn’t care enough to fight for a slice of the ‘happily ever after’ they both wish they could have. How realistic is it anyway?

 _‘It wasn’t meant to be.’_ So she gets up and starts for the shower. Today is going to be the first day of many ‘hanging out’ with Professor Atticus Shane at the University.

“Please let the torture be over soon.” She mutters stepping into the hot water.

.*.

He's been sitting in the sunlight, feeling the warm rays on his face trying to puzzle out this version of Katerina. The girl, Elena. It isn't difficult to separate the two but this… the naïve girl, still with hope and untarnished… she's so much like the Katerina he remembers. The girl she used to be, before Klaus…

His brother holds so much anger, the pain and hurt he shoves so far down into the darkness of what they’ve become; these monsters of myth and legend.

…

They’ve struck a bargain. A temporary alliance and he hopes this will get him what he wants. What Klaus refuses to give him-

Elijah frowns. The angry voices he locks on to draw his eyes to the girl stomping through the garden talking on her cell phone.

 _‘Insufferable little machines.’_ He notes with annoyance. All the noise is made worse by all this technology and he wishes for times past, when the noise wasn’t so loud it took effort to block it out. How they hadn't gone mad yet was a mystery-

_“Don’t you dare!”_

_“Look-.”_

_“NO. You look, Dean Winchester. I am not a fragile little thing and I definitely don’t need you screwing up my Hunt so stay the hell away from Mystic Falls. And me!”_

“Hunter.” He stands, easily following her progress through the few students on this part of the university grounds. “Winchester…” he wonders if Elena’s little group of friends might’ve called in for some help. Would they know of Hunters? The Winchesters in particular…?

Elijah flicks an invisible speck from his sleeve, buttons his suit jacket and follows after the girl-

 _‘They're all so young.’_ He notes with an inward sigh.

_He found himself in a bit of a 'jam'. Par for the course, maybe. Either way, it was not fun and certainly not part of the plan. The worst part was knowing that Dean was alone. Alone with Sam in a shit-ass Motel just a few miles away… He wondered what would happen to his boys without him? Who would take them in if this was the end of John? And was it fair? His boys had already lost their Mother… Sam would never have even a memory of Mary. And Dean? What could the kid really remember about her? Would he have good memories of John?_

_The crash of the doors yanked him out of the thoughts that seemed to be swallowing him up. Thinking of his mortality and imminent death when he should be focused on how to get his ass out of the God damned frying pan he'd jumped into blindly._

_He struggled to stay on his feet. He yanked on the belt he'd buckled over the shirt plugging up the gouges in his abdomen tighter. He still had some ammo and his knife. It was plenty but even empty handed, John Winchester would fight to get home to his boys. He couldn’t leave them to fend for themselves when that thing was still out there._

_And that was the other reason John moved with purpose to the window. He'd make his way up to that exit and climb or drag his ass out._

_.*._

 

Elijah watches her from the bench across the little garden in front of the building she has entered. He can hear her, if he really wants to make the effort to just focus on her…  He does.

_"…okay, well. …"_

_"Done for today?"_

_"Yup, I need a break and you need me to get out of your hair before I wear out my welcome."_

_A laugh. "I'm learning something as well."_

_"Good. Its better not to let your brain go to mush."_

_Another chuckle. "Exactly."_

_"Bon nuit."_

Elijah watches her emerge from the building. She stops and stands on the front steps just staring. He can see her gaze behind the dark aviators she wears. Her gaze seems to pass over him without notice. He feels the slight urge to smile make his lips twitch; he knows better.

Rheygne skips down the steps and heads across the street right to the little garden. She never looks at Elijah and continues past him. Its late afternoon and though the sun is still bright enough she didn’t have to put on her shades. But she likes the fact it allows her to look around without drawing attention to herself for staring. The warning shiver down her spine is always annoying but more when she can't seem to find the cause. Still, her scowl lands on the tall stranger leaning again Graham.

' _No one. Nobody touches my ride.'_ Her stride switches from fast to 'you're about to feel my boot up your ass'. In the back of her mind is the thought that only a hand-full of people would ever notice the difference. And she already told one of them to stay the hell away.

.*.

_The scent of blood is strong enough to draw Elijah away from the well-worn path. It doesn't take him long to find the source; the man struggling to get to his feet._

_Elijah watches, he's still safely hidden out of sight, debating what it is he really wants to do with this opportunity._

_He could feed…_

_It wouldn’t take much to grab the man and drink him dry. But he's lost a lot of blood already- he wrinkles his nose in distaste for the waste of a good meal, the blood soaked into the t-shirt…_

'Humans.'

_Just a drop…it wouldn’t take much but…well, why should he go out of his way?_

_Is it boredom?_

_Elijah steps into the path of the wounded man._

.*.

He stands back and watches the slight girl, balled fists, stop in front of the Salvatore brother. He can hear the first words out of her mouth die out as Damon steps into her space, pale blue eyes narrowed and with a quick swipe of his hand, he takes the sunglasses off her face.

"Remember me?" Damon offers a slow smirk, the edge of her shades lightly tracing a path down her cheek until he hooks them in the collar of her shirt.

"Should I?" Rheygne stares back, her lack of height not at all diminishing the threat in her tone. Because they can see she is not afraid of him.

Elijah wonders if she doesn’t 'feel' it. She's a Hunter. The girl should know what Damon is-

"Yes." Damon leans down, his eyes locked with hers. It only takes a moment, the amount of time it takes to draw breath and then she does remember him.

"…You were at the Mystic Grill…" she sounds confused. A bit upset she had forgotten and with the reminder of their meeting come a lot of other things she can't believe she's forgotten. The fact she completely forgot she had been out that night- like she'd missed a day of her life.

_'How the hell does that happen?'_

"I'll take you home." Damon slips his hand into hers, cool fingers twining with hers and tugs her around the hot rod to the passenger side.

Rheygne doesn’t even know why she's letting him sit her down, why she allowing him to take the keys out of her hand and why she doesn’t protest the fact he's getting behind the wheel of _her car_.

"I don’t want to go home. I'm not ready yet."

"We're going to my place." Damon clarifies. He's got a few someone's who need to learn to stay out of his business. He looks at her; she's sitting just like he told her to. Her eyes meet his, the sun still giving enough light to make the gold and copper flecks ignite like fireflies in the dark depths. His gaze drops to her parted lips and the soft exhale of breath. He can hear the steady beat of her heart…

Damon smiles."I'll remind you of how much fun we had together."

Elijah doesn’t interfere. He could. Possibly should have. But then …

.*.

_John wakes up, startled to find the road only a few away. He can't remember walking this far. And then he jerks into a sitting position and that alerts him to the fact he's no longer in pain. He pats his chest and the shredded t-shirt, even yanks on the bits of cotton to find smooth skin underneath._

_"That’s impossible." He mutters. He'd been bleeding, his abdomen in shreds it was all he could do to get himself out of that window before the fire and-_

_"Not exactly."_

_John's head snapped up to the voice. He stared at the man standing very still a few feet away._

_"Who are you?" John barked the order as he got to his feet. He felt unsteady and had to grab onto the trunk of the nearest feet to stop from face-planting into the ground._

_"My name is Elijah Mikaelson." He introduced himself. There wasn’t anything the man could do to him. It was safe enough to make the introduction. "What are you doing here?"_

_John refused to give an answer. He glared at Elijah, not sure why he felt threatened but he was going with his gut._

_Elijah sighed. "I much prefer a civilized conversation." He took two steps forward and stopped seeing the gun aimed at his chest._

_"Not an inch closer." John warned._

_A pair of dark eyebrows rose in slight annoyed question and a bit of disbelief. Elijah felt slight amusement at being threatened by such a weapon._

_"Who are you?"_

_"John Winchester." He snapped his mouth shut, scowling._

_"What are you doing here?"_

_"I was Hunting." Again, John didn’t know why he was talking so freely and he didn’t like it. "What the hell are you?!"_

_"Put your gun away, John." Elijah took another step closer as John did as he was told. "I believe I've just saved a Hunter. Am I correct?" he asked._

_"Yes." John stepped back from Elijah. Horror was slowly taking root, displacing his anger and confusion. "How are you doing that? What are you?!"_

_"No need to shout." Elijah frowned. "I am a vampire. And as I said, I've just saved your life so it would be most unproductive if I killed you. Wouldn’t it?" he paused, waiting for John to make his move but after a long moment when it didn’t come he smiled at the Hunter. "I was out taking a stroll. Join me. We can converse. I am curious about your kind and why it is you humans feel the need to shorten your lives so drastically. They're short enough as it is. Don’t you think so?" he starts walking, slowly so that John can keep pace and not exert himself too much._

_"What do you want?" John growls. He can't stop from walking beside the vampire and he doesn’t know why or where this is going._

_"To talk. As I said." Elijah replies. "You asked how I'm doing this." He motions an elegant hand at John walking beside him. "I've compelled you. I would have rathered we talk like men but…"_

_"You're not a man." John points out with heat in his tone._

_"No… I suppose I haven't been a man for a very long time." Elijah agrees. "You have nothing to fear from me, John." He promises after a moment. "I give you my word."_

_John clearly doesn’t believe him but they continue walking through the trees just a few feet from the road._

_"You don’t believe me. I understand." Elijah nods, unperturbed. He accepts it as a fact and doesn’t let it bother him. "We have a ways to go. Your automobile is quite … well, I'm not exactly an expert." He offers a polite smile glancing at John. "I'll walk you there and I'll compel you to forget our ever meeting."_

_John still didn’t believe him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this one came out of nowhere. The last half because the first half was already typed up. I wanted to bring in Elijah and John and this is what came of that idea just a few minutes ago.  
> I might have to come back later and flesh it out some more.


End file.
